Where's the Catch?
by AlyssC01
Summary: Nobody ever volunteered for her missions. Nobody. So, who could blame her for looking a gifted horse in the mouth when it presented itself? FemShep. Brief SI. One Shot.


_TITLE: Where's the Catch? _

_CATEGORY: Humour_

_WARNINGS: Silliness, something I'm not prone to. O_o An insight into a really strange job… _

_FEEDBACK: ;) Naturally – that's why we're here aren't we? _

_DISCLAIMER: Mass Effect is the property of BioWare and EA Games. I don't own it and I don't make any money off of it. This is also the time and place to say that it's an AWESOME game. No game will ever come close. Ever _

_AN and SUMMARY: I've noticed that there is a trend for Self Insertions in the Mass Effect universe. It led me to imagine this scene when I was stuck in traffic one day. It got so bad (the traffic and the scene...) that I ended up acting it out (still stuck in traffic…). People hooted at me and stared a bit funny… Hmm… It played out in various ways – this was the dialogue I managed to salvage and reconstruct._

_For interest – this is the code for my Shepard. __743.11F.M17..73Q.1DA..177_

888

"Commander Shepard! Commander Shepard wait!"

About to board the Normandy from Omega, Samara, Shepard and Miranda shared a puzzled look as they turned around to see who was calling. A woman, probably no more than a year or two younger than Shepard, was running their way, her eyes bright with enthusiasm when she saw them stopping. She came to a halt in front of them, her breathing strained as she bent over to catch her breath, bracing her hands on her knees. She was tall, taller than Shepard, with a pale complexion, waist length auburn hair and dirty green eyes hidden behind half framed spectacles.

"The air here…" she said as she pushed herself up and swallowed. "It's a bit funny isn't it?"

The three women blinked at her and shifted awkwardly.

"Can I help you?" Shepard asked neutrally, not missing the way Samara moved ever so subtly so that she could react quickly if the woman turned out to be a threat.

Having gotten her breath back, the new comer smiled and made a vague motion with her hand as she talked, almost as if she was escorting her words into the air with her fingers.

"It's not about whether you can help me," she said grinning. "It's about whether I can help you. I volunteer."

"For what?" Miranda asked shortly before Shepard could say anything.

The woman blinked at her and raised an eyebrow. "The suicide mission of course," she said. "I volunteer. I want to be on your team and I will be extremely loyal. No questions asked – if you want me to wrestle a hanar, I will. I'll kiss a batarian. Just say the word; I am yours in complete and sound loyalty."

There were _several_ moments of silence as the women considered these words. Sharing a look with Samara, Shepard frowned as she took a step closer to study the woman. She wasn't dressed like anybody on Omega, wearing what looked like sturdy walking shoes, a pair of dark brown cargo pants and a thick dark green wool jersey which dated from the 1900s. She looked ruffled, but comfortable with herself and very eager to hear Shepard's reply.

Frowning, the Commander couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

Again, the woman blinked, clearly showing her surprise. "Why not?" She retorted. "You need help. The more people you take the better. I have in-depth knowledge of your mission, I know how to kick collector arse, I _rule_ in paintball and quite frankly, it's a lot more fun than my _other_ job."

There were several more moments of silence. Struggling to wrap her thoughts around what was happening; Shepard shifted and motioned to their companion.

"Yes but…" she hesitated. "Why? Why me? Why this mission?"

The young woman pushed up her glasses and shrugged. "You are a great Commander who has proven yourself in battle many times. If you're paragron, you have made the right decision for those concerned. Always. You have integrity and I think you are a pretty good example of what humanity _should_ be like in comparison to the Cerberus ideal…" She held up her hands in defence when Miranda gave her a dirty look. "No offence of course but… Really. I'd follow someone like you to the end of the galaxy and back."

In response, Miranda rolled her eyes and turned around. "I don't have time for this," she said. "You two can sort this out. Commander, with respect – she's not coming aboard." She left without another word, leaving the three remaining women to stare in her wake.

"They're pretty tight these Australians, aren't they?" The newcomer mused and turned her attention back to Shepard. "But wrong, I'll be an invaluable asset to the crew. I can help you choose who to take, what to do… I've done it all. Please take me along, I beg you."

Commander Shepard almost felt sorry for the young woman, who seemed truly desperate to accompany them. None the less, she was a little sceptical about her intentions. Nobody ever just _volunteered_ with her.

Nobody.

"Why is this so important to you?" she said. "You're right when you said that it is a suicide mission. People don't generally volunteer for something like that."

The young woman chuckled and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Trust me," she said. "It's infinitely better than my day to day life. I'm always buried knee deep in half decomposing chickens, I drive from one miserable little farm to the next. When I get stuck in mud with my wee little car I have to push myself out because there's nobody around for miles. I get called out over weekends to do _post mortems_ on chickens. I mean really? I'd take a suicide mission on the Normandy any day."

Samara frowned as she studied her. "You have a peculiar job," she pointed out. "Do you practice it here on Omega?"

The youth shook her head. "No," she said. "Not here and _yes_ it's pretty peculiar. Come on, take me with you. I promise I'll be good. I'll share a pod with Grunt, really. I'll even listen to bloody Zaeed's stories. I don't eat much, I'm fit and I have NO baggage. No daughters or fathers or sisters who will crawl out of the woodwork and take up your time. Just… Take me with you."

The last was said in the most desperate voice Shepard had ever heard. The offer was… Tempting. She had never had an easy time recruiting _anybody_ for her missions. People needed demonstrations of her leadership ability; they needed convincing that she was the person to follow. They needed their own personal issues sorted out. She didn't mind doing it but… To just take somebody?

Tempting. Very tempting.

"Shepard," Samara said, breaking through her line of thought. "I find myself unable to trust the intentions of this young woman. She knows too much, it's an obvious a trap."

Before Shepard could reply the woman blinked and glared at the asari. "Next play through I'm not doing _your_ loyalty mission," she said then turned to Shepard. "Come on Commander… Please."

"I…" Shepard struggled. "I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry… What did you say your name was?"

The woman's face dropped like a brick. "You're not taking me or you're sorry because you don't know my name?"

Shepard cringed and put a look of extreme apology on her face. "I'm sorry but I can't take you with me," she said and glanced at Samara for support. "Your intentions are… Noble sure. But, I can't. This is a terrible mission and… Well… I don't know you. Nobody seems to and…."

It felt like kicking a puppy.

"You can get to know me," the woman pointed out. "It's a long trip. Come on. I'll be good. I promise. I even make waffles. Good waffles."

Another tempting offer but Shepard knew that if she took the young woman in against both Samara and Miranda's wishes then she might just deal with a serious mutiny. The two weren't generally in consensus so if they _both_ felt that she shouldn't come then they must be onto something.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But, you can't come along. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

She turned to go back to the Normandy, leaving a very disappointed volunteer behind her. It took several moments for the fan fiction author and gamer to find her words, something she wasn't used to (as words were always in a ready supply). Then, just before the two Normandy crew members disappeared she glared and shook her fist at them.

"This is the last time I do _any_ of the loyalty missions!" she snapped. "Next time I'll… I'll… I'll send you to the Collectors in a Lego ship! Fight for the lost my arse."

The shuttle doors closed before her, shutting off the promise of adventure, the redemption from her mundane life and the chance to taste Mess Sergeant Gardner's food. Sighing, wondering if she had perhaps come across as too needy for adventure, Alyssa turned around and headed back into Omega, wondering whom she could con into a voyage next…

_The End._


End file.
